They Say We're Young And We Don't Know
by gypsy rosalie
Summary: One day in the childhood of the Boswell siblings as they navigate their way through teenage hormones, toddler tantrums, grumpy Grandads and the general chaos that is life on Kelsall Street. Kid!Boswells. Past fic.


**I've been incredibly lousy in terms of actually getting fics finished, and this one has been floating around since 2012 so I thought I might post it. Not related to any of my other fics. Pointless, no real plot, just a slice of life sort of thing. I've always wanted to play around with the idea of how the Boswells interacted as children and how close they would have been growing up. Not the best, and not really intended to be taken seriously.**

**This is set around 1971 (hence the style of clothing, when it comes up), and the children's ages are as follows: Joey is 14, Jack is 12, Adrian/Jimmy is 11, Aveline is 8 and Billy is 2 ½. And Martina, when she turns up, is about 12. **

**Warnings include rather a lot of shameless and deliberate foreshadowing for the show, plus a couple of vague Hi-de-hi references, and a little bit of Joetina that could be interpreted as Joetina or as Joey being arrogant because of his hormones, or as foreshadowing for what actually happens in the show. I'll let you decide that. **

* * *

Like most mornings, the day began at number 30 Kelsall Street with a blazing row. The walls all but shook as Nellie Boswell's thunderous voice rang out through the house.

'Don't think I don't know what you've been doing, Freddie Boswell! Coming home at three in the morning every night this week, smelling of that revolting, overpowering perfume!'

'I've done nothin'!' came Freddie's protest. 'Can't a man be allowed a little time to 'imself now and again?'

Nellie roared on as if he hadn't spoken. 'Don't play me for a fool! You've been sneaking out with that- that TART!'

'For the last time, Lil is just a mate!'

'Yeeees, a good word to describe just what you two get up to behind closed doors!'

'Now look 'ere, Nellie Boswell…'

Sitting at the top of the stairs, Joey rested his chin on his hand and rolled his eyes. He'd long since gotten used to being woken up before six on a Saturday by his parents having a tiff- he was pretty sure his body-clock was used to it now. He'd awoken a few moments before the first angry voice sounded, as if his subconscious had been anticipating the fight before it started, and now he was waiting on the landing, having given up on any hope of going back to sleep but not daring to venture down onto the ground floor for fear of being caught in the middle of it.

'Ere- Joey,' came a voice from behind him, and Jack, sleepy-eyed and all but falling out of his dressing-gown, squeezed into the space beside him. 'Ten p. says it goes on 'til lunchtime today.'

The older Boswell siblings' new favourite pastime was gambling, ever since two older boys had introduced Joey to it. He'd come home one night full of new and exciting knowledge, which he'd boasted to his family at the table and instantly earned him a slap round the head from Nellie.

He'd then been shouted at for at least an hour ( _a good Catholic does not take part in such wicked activities, you stay away from that Yizzel and…whatever his name is…)_ and he never publicly brought it up again. But, despite his mother's disgust, Jack had looked at him with amazement, in awe of this madly grown-up world his brother had entered into, and since then the two had been surreptitiously making bets with each other, frittering away their pocket-money on anything and everything it was possible to make a wager on.

Freddie knew about it, of course, having caught them at it more than once, but with a wink and a 'don't let your mother see you doin' that,' he'd sent them away.

'Only lunchtime?' Joey whispered back, raising his eyebrows. 'Mam's in one of 'er moods. I'll double that and say it'll still be goin' on at dinnertime.'

Jack looked pleased. 'You're on.'

'Oh, won't you two _stop?'_ came another muffled voice, and Jimmy's head emerged from around the door, his curly hair dishevelled and sticking out all over the place. 'You're gonna get into trouble one of these days! Mam'll catch you out soon- everyone knows what you're doin'! And you're gonna ruin me- there're already rumours goin' round at school. My reputation is 'angin' by a fread- 'angin' by a fread!'

Joey and Jack ripped off their slippers and threw them at him.

'Leave off,' Jack grumbled, 'it doesn't 'ave anythin' to do with you, mister goody two-shoes.'

For some reason, unbeknownst to his elder brothers, Jimmy was obsessed with doing well at school. While Joey and Jack were content to glance at their reports, laugh at the terrible marks and then find creative ways of disposing of them, Jimmy treated his like a precious treasure, afraid to get even one little crease in it 'til he'd handed it over to their Mam.

'If it gets out that my brothers are doin'…_illegal gamblin',_' Jimmy began, and the other two snorted at the fuss he was making. So they were underage- what did it matter? It wasn't illegal unless someone caught them.

'All me chances of makin' somethin' of meself'll be ruined!' Jimmy went on. 'They'll never pick me for a prefect with you two around- and then I'll ever be respected and I'll never get a decent job after A-levels!'

Jack made a disgruntled noise, leaned his head against the wall and pretended to snore.

Jimmy shot him a glare. 'We can't all be slobs like you! I wanna do somethin' great- own a little business someday! I'll sit in a nice office with a suit and tie, and people will say 'yes Adrian, sir!' He cast his eyes skyward, his face coming over all dreamy.

'Adrian? _Adrian?_' Jack snorted. 'You're not still on about that? I thought you'd get over that Adrian business.'

'We can't all live with such common names! As soon as I can change it properly, I will. You need an important sounding name, if you have ambition. I'm gonna be great, and I'm gonna have the right name to go with me job.'

Joey stifled a yawn. 'Yeah? Well I think I'll be a mercenary when I grow up.'

Jack snickered into his hands. Jimmy, or rather 'Adrian', as usual, couldn't see the funny side.

'You don't even know what a mercenary is!'

'Course I do,' Joey said.

'Go on. What is it, then?'

'Someone who…er…gets a lot o' money without 'avin' to slave away for it,' Joey made up.

'And how will you get all this money, then?'

'That doesn't matter, does it?' said Joey, deliberately evading actually answering. 'I'll have more than _you_, anyway.'

There was a pause as the three boys all stared into space, pondering a future they couldn't quite envision. None of them could really picture a life outside this one, in Kelsall Street, surrounded by family and sitting round that same kitchen table every meal. It was hard to imagine life changing, any of them ever leaving.

'It'd be nice to be 'im,' Jack said after a while, jerking his head toward their bedroom, in which, undoubtedly, Billy lay still asleep, totally undisturbed and making a tiny lump in a bed he was yet to grow into.

The Boswell siblings constantly alternated between adoring little Billy, showing off how grown up they were by taking care of him, and feeling jealous. Billy managed to sleep through just about everything, and, being only two-and-a-half, he also managed to get away with everything and grab everyone's attention by standing on his chair and throwing major tantrums.

All of them, even Joey, who took his older brother duty very seriously indeed, had caught themselves thinking at one time or another how lovely it would be to be a toddler again.

Right now, Billy was curled up in there somewhere, dreaming soundly, the racket that was still going on downstairs not even crossing his consciousness. Joey couldn't decide at this precise moment just how lucky Billy was. There were too many opposing factors to weigh up. Billy had come as a surprise- an accident, then- he hadn't been wanted, but then Nellie had been overjoyed to have another child out of her tempestuous marriage. He was given the best of everything, totally and utterly spoiled, for now, at least, but Joey couldn't help thinking that the poor kid was growing up in a house full of fighting. He could still (vaguely, anyway) recall the days when Nellie and Freddie had been happy and in love, when they used to trade laughs and jokes rather than cross words. Slowly, as he had gotten older and the other children had made their way into the world, the laughs had dropped off one by one, the cross words piling up a little bit at a time. And since his dad had met Lilo Lil, everything had just gone from bad to worse. Billy would grow up with the arguments about tarts and infidelity being all he knew. He'd think it was the norm- he'd probably end up in the same sort of marriage, arguing every day of _his_ life, think that was just what people did…

His parental instincts taking over, Joey eased himself up, tiptoed into the room and across to the bed in the corner and scooped his little brother into his arms. Without waking him, he carried him to his own bed and settled down, ignoring the looks Jack and Jimmy were giving him from the doorway. Billy stirred, then buried his head in Joey's shoulder and kept on snoring.

' 'ow does he sleep through it?' Jack furrowed his brow. 'The whole street'll be awake by now!'

'Well, he's exhausted, isn't he?' Jimmy/Adrian said wisely. 'He spends all day shrieking and throwin' 'is toys about- by night time he's worn out and he just sort of collapses for fourteen hours straight.'

Joey opened his mouth to contribute to the conversation but was stopped short by the sudden lack of noise. The boys all looked at each other- was it over already?

'Don't you DARE mention her name in this house!' came the ferocious roar, and then the two of them were at it again, and the childrens' shoulders slumped. It was going to be a long day. Jack and Adrian sighed and climbed back into their own beds, resigned to the fact that it wasn't going to be safe to get up any time soon.

A small squeak sounded from across the hall.

'Joey? Are you awake?' came Aveline's timid, mousy voice, and then a door creaked open to reveal a small girl, still bleary-eyed and mussed. Little Aveline tottered into the room, an endearingly funny sight in her mother's feathery slippers and a see-through pink dressing gown several sizes too big for her. Three plastic bead necklaces were permanently draped around her neck, and she had tried unsuccessfully to put her hair up in curlers, which had resulted in a horribly tangled mess on one side of her head.

Joey looked at her fondly. 'Come 'ere, you,' he said, shaking his head and working one arm free of Billy to pat the space beside him. 'What've you done to yerself now?'

Aveline bounced onto Joey's lap like she owned it, jostling him so his head almost went through the wall.

'I don't think me 'air's very glamorous, do you?' she lisped through the gap in her top teeth, settling herself against Joey's shoulder and ignoring his winces of discomfort. 'Models have to look perfect and beautiful- they'll never want me with boring straight hair!'

'They'll never want her anyway,' scowled Adrian, and Joey shot him a glare.

'Of course they'll want you!' he told his sister, gently beginning to work a curler free from her tangled tresses and wincing as she_ ouch-_ed dramatically. 'You're cute as a button, Aveline- how could they not?'

'I don't want to be _cute_,' humphed Aveline, 'I want to be- ow!- stylish and beautiful!'

And you will be,' Joey reassured her, pulling the last of the rollers out and smoothing down her hair. 'You will be. There, all done!'

Aveline gave him a sweet smile and snuggled against his side. 'Thanks, Joey!'

The five of them sat quietly for a few more minutes, trying not to listen to the shouts in the background and wondering just how they'd spend their day.

No doubt Joey would concoct some plan to keep them entertained while the adults battled it out.

Aveline leaned round Joey to look at the still-sleeping Billy nestled in his arms.

'Aww, hey,' she cooed. 'Give us a hold, Joey!'

The eldest Boswell obliged, shifting the toddler carefully into her lap. 'Hold onto him tightly, Princess,' he warned, 'and remember, he's not a doll! Don't play with 'im!'

Aveline, who'd taken hold of his arms and been waving them around, dropped them with a guilty smile. This latest jolt finally brought Billy to his senses and he stretched, opening his eyes and then pulling a sour face, already beginning to rev up to a cry.

'I want breakfast,' he demanded. 'Where's Mammy?'

As if to answer his question, Nellie's shouts increased in volume and a loud smash indicated the destruction of a piece of crockery.

The other children glanced at each other, unsure how to explain the situation to their youngest brother.

'Er…Mammy's a bit busy, sunshine,' Joey said, instantly going into patronising-smile mode. 'We're just gonna wait up 'ere for a little while, okay?'

Billy pouted. 'I don't _want_ to wait up here!' he whined. 'Up 'ere is boring! I want breakfast _now!_' He turned his small face up to look at Joey. 'I will scream.'

The others leapt up in a flash, all crowding round him and trying everything they could to pacify him.

'No, no, Billy, don't…'

'It's nice up here, look, I'll let you look at my books…'

'Talk sense, Adrian, 'e can't read!'

'Shut it, all of you!' Joey suddenly sat up straighter. 'Listen!'

Footsteps were thumping up the stairs and in their general direction. It seemed Nellie and Freddie had finally tired of holding their argument in the kitchen and were relocating it. The children scrambled up and leaned against the wall of the boys' room, hearts pounding as they listened.

'Should we go and talk to Mam?' Adrian asked.

'Not such a good idea,' Joey, ever the sensible leader, advised, 'I don't think they're quite done, somehow.'

From across the landing, the door to their parents' room slammed, then opened, then slammed again.

'Don't you slam doors in this house when your children are asleep, Freddie Boswell!'

And they were off once again.

'Well,' said Joey, 'maybe it's time we got up, took Grandad his breakfast. He needs someone to while Granny's away.'

He smiled down at Billy. 'Toast?'

'I want eggs, wif dippy lellow bits,' Billy said, 'and some 'mato, but no bacon. Don't like it.'

'Toast?' Joey offered again.

* * *

A few haphazard attempts to get dressed and a toddler tantrum later, the four younger Boswells all sat round the kitchen table, chanting _is it ready yet, Joey?_ over and over.

'Steady on, you lot!' Joey scowled down the toaster. 'There's still one more round to go!'

The toaster dinged and four pieces popped out, which Joey snatched from the air with a sweep of his hand. Billy giggled and clapped, and he bowed deeply for his brother's amusement before tossing the pieces onto the already two-foot-high stack he'd singed into existence.

'Right, then,' he slid the plate of toast onto a silver tray, efficiently adding a few pots of jam, knives and a dish of bitter before hefting the whole lot up into his arms. 'Come on, then. To Grandad's with you!'

The Boswells all stumbled over one another trying to get to the front door.

'Toast?!' was Grandad's greeting. 'What does yer Mam expect me ter do- starve? My stomach needs something better than this rubbish!'

'Er, Grandad,' Joey tried to explain, 'Mam's a bit tied up at the moment.'

'Yes, I 'eard, I'm not deaf _yet_ you know!' Grandad snapped. 'She's rowin'! She's always rowin' with that scruff of a man she married!'

To Grandad, Freddie wasn't a complete person. He was just 'her husband' or 'that man' or, if he was in a particularly good mood, 'your father.'

'She caught him with Lilo Lil again.'

'I knew it. It's hanky panky, isn't it? All of the problems in the world today are because of 'anky panky.' He surveyed the five children on his doorstep and ran a hand through his combover. 'I suppose you lot want to come in, then.'

He was met with a host of pleading smiles.

'Oh, go on,' he held the door open. 'All this free babysitting- I should be chargin' your parents. I'll be sixty soon, you know! Can't go on chargin' about after you kids forever, I'll wear me legs out! Be needin' a walkin' stick soon, just to get about…'

Grandad clanked the tray down. 'And for all their childcare they could at least provide decent catering! Look!' he rifled through the stack of toast, scrutinising each and every piece. ' 'alf of 'em look like they 'aven't even been cooked at all! Food poisonin', it is!'

Joey looked affronted. 'I did _try, _Grandad!'

Something changed in the old man's face. 'Oh, did you make this, lad? On yer own?'

Joey nodded.

'You're old enough to cook better than this,' Grandad said, causing his Grandson's hopeful face to fall. 'But I suppose it'll 'ave to do.'

He broke out into a smile as he sat down, opening his arms to Aveline. 'Come 'ere, duck. Don't you look pretty today?'

Aveline bounded toward him, leaping on his knee with a little too much exuberance for the old man, and poking her tongue out at Adrian. They'd been arguing for a good ten minutes about the frilly dress she had on.

'_Told_ you.'

'Oh, I just _said_ it was a bit too-'

'We don't need to do all that again!' Joey cut in, holding up his hands. 'Let's just enjoy our breakfast.' He busied himself buttering a slice of toast for Billy and cutting it into quarters. 'Here you go, sunshine!'

Billy examined his food, and then wrinkled his nose. 'Not hungry for that.' He picked up one of the quarters and threw it across the room.

'Where's my eggs?' he stomped his little foot.

'We haven't made any,' Joey said gently. 'Now come on, eat your toast.'

He lifted a piece to Billy's mouth, and it was rather violently shoved aside.

'I will scream!' Billy said, raising a chubby finger. The Boswells all held their breaths.

'Yes, well, I fancy a cup o' tea,' Grandad said, hastily sliding Aveline off his lap and scurrying out of the room.

* * *

'Back in them days, I could pick a winner like nobody else. I used to go to the races every week- when them lot next door weren't too busy rowin' ter take me.'

The Boswell children had been sat round Grandad's armchair for at least an hour now, entranced by his stories of the past, which ranged from outlandish tales of wearing balaclavas in the army to ordinary, everyday yarns such as the many times he thought the government was cheating him. Although he tended to ramble, every word was priceless to the siblings, and they hung on as if to a life-preserver.

'I'll take you one day,' Joey said. 'I'll be able to drive in two years- then I'll buy the best car money can buy, and we'll go every week.'

'And how will you get all the money for that, then?' Grandad squinted down at him.

Joey threw his hands up. 'Why does everyone keep askin' me that?!'

'We're all just anxious to know how the great _mercenary_ is gonna make it work,' Adrian quipped.

Grandad's eyes narrowed further. 'Mercenary? What's all this talk about mercenaries? We're tryin' to drink our tea!' He held up his teacup, as though its presence somehow placed a taboo on the subject of Joey's ambition.

'What's a mersery?' asked Billy, and earned himself some rather annoyed looks, which almost provoked another tantrum.

'Anyway,' Grandad quickly went on with his story, 'I met…'

'I _asked _ a…a…ask!' Billy jumped to his feet, shouting his indignation over the top of the old man. 'What's a MERSERY?!'

'Sit down, sunshine,' Joey said, forcing an overly bright smile out of his face. 'A mercenary's just a…silly grown up man, son. Nothin' you need to worry about.' He tapped Billy's nose with his index finger, causing him to giggle.

Grandad tutted. 'That boy needs to learn some manners. Children were never like that in my day. Did what they were told, they did.'

'It's just the Terrible Twos, Grandad,' Joey apologised, pulling the now reasonably pacified Billy into his lap. 'He'll grow out of it.'

'Hopefully,' Adrian muttered.

'Well anyway,' Grandad sat back in his chair, 'oh yes. The races. I used to take yer Granny there, when I was courtin' 'er. She's a good woman, your Granny, always very particular. Everythin' 'as to be just so.' He glanced across the room to the calendar on the wall. 'She'll be back from 'er 'olidays soon, she will. Woe betide me if anythin's out o' place.'

The Boswells shifted awkwardly in their seats, sincerely hoping Grandad wasn't expecting them to offer to help clean the house.

'You know when we first moved into this 'ouse,' he went on, thankfully not hearing the children's collective sigh of relief, 'when yer father first 'ad that daft idea to swap houses over, yer Granny insisted on decoratin' the kitchen- 'ad to 'ave the right colour paper for her own personal tastes or there would've been a riot. Right clumsy cow she was though- she was 'oldin' the ladder and she put it right through the wall. We 'ad a bloody great big 'ole there for six weeks.'

The younger Boswells giggled at this, and even Joey couldn't stifle a smile. It was difficult to picture their Granny, always such a prim and proper lady in every respect, smashing holes in walls.

'She never! You're makin' that up, aren't you?'

'No, I'll show yer!' Discarding his teacup, Grandad leapt to his feet, ushering them into the kitchen. 'See there!'

'I don't see anything,' said Jack, staring fixedly at the wrong wall.

'Over _there_!' Grandad insisted.

Jimmy spotted it first- a space about three feet off the floor, where, despite a layer of wallpaper having been added, it was still obvious that at some point it had been replastered. Joey shook his head in amused disbelief.

'Who would've thought,' he murmured.

'Look, Joey, Joey look!' Billy bounced his way over to the wall, drawing himself up to his full height. 'Look! I'm taller than the hole!' he jutted out his chin proudly, and the others all laughed.

'So you are, pet,' Grandad said. 'That's very nice, then.'

On a sudden impulse, Joey swiped a pen off the kitchen table, making a little mark just above the toddler's head.

'There you are, son,' he grinned, 'have a look!'

Billy stepped back, smiling triumphantly and clapping his little hands.

'Ooh, do me now, Joey!' Never one for liking not being the centre of attention, Aveline now tugged on her brother's sleeve.

'Now 'ang on a minute!' Grandad protested, snatching the pen from him, 'this is me kitchen wall, not your bloody 'eight chart!'

Joey glanced from his grandfather to his little sister, who looked up at him with huge, pleading eyes. She was just too adorably irresistible.

'Aw, hey, go on Grandad,' he coaxed, 'just let Aveline 'ave a go- it won't 'urt the wall any!'

Grandad furrowed his brow.

'I'll wipe the marks off after!'

'Oh, go on then,' he reluctantly handed the pen back over, 'but if you lot permanently mess up me kitchen, your Granny'll 'ave all our 'eads!'

He retrieved a supply of biscuits for himself from the pantry and exited the room, leaving the children to their own devices.

'Right, then!' announced Joey, brandishing the pen, 'Come on, Aveline, let's get you measured!'

It took several attempts to draw an accurate mark for Aveline- the girl was overexcited, constantly wriggling and jumping up and down, keeping up a constant chatter as Adrian attempted to hold her still.

'When I'm a model,' she was saying, 'I'll be very tall, because they always are, you know, and I'll 'ave a glamorous walk because me legs'll be so long, and…'

'Done!' Joey said, and she stopped mid-flow and bounded away to admire her mark. She frowned, her little face screwing up as she regarded her own stature.

'That doesn't look very _high_, Joey,' she decided, turning to glare at her brother, 'are you sure you did it right?'

'It looks fine to me, princess!' Joey said, putting his hands on her shoulders and thinking on the fly, 'you've grown since the last…er…time we measured you!' This was technically true, since Joey couldn't ever remember the last time such a thing had happened. Aveline need never know, though.

'I'm sure you're tall for your age,' Joey was sure of no such thing, 'and if you keep up at this rate, you'll be…why, you'll be six foot-three and all the catwalks'll be desperate to have you!'

The smile was beginning to creep back onto Aveline's face. He poked her lightly under the ribs, and she giggled, her hands flying to her stomach.

'D'you think so, Joey?'

He bent down so his face was level with hers. 'You know what? I know so.'

'Is that it? Are we done now?' Jack grumbled, slouching in the doorway and checking his broken watch for emphasis. 'When you're finished measurin' the babies can we do something good?'

Aveline spun around, her mouth wide. 'I'm norra baby!' she stomped her foot and puffed out her chest. 'I'm very mat…matu…big for me age! Joey _always_ says!'

'If you say so,' muttered Jack.

'And we can't go do somethin' else!' Aveline went on, apparently horrified at the suggestion. 'We 'aven't done you lot yet!'

Joey's eyes lit up, and he turned to his brothers, never one to pass up an opportunity to embarrass them. He held the pen aloft, smiling predatorily.

'How tall are _you_ then, Jack?'

Jack tried to take a step backwards, only to find he was already backed up against the doorframe. 'Oh, no!' he raised his hands. 'I'm too old ter do height charts. They're for little kids.'

'And I'm too old too,' Adrian put in before anyone could corner him, '_And _I'm far too sensible. I like to do worthwhile things with my time, like, um, like um….' He racked his brains for something he could use to get out of the unpleasant task, but Joey, taking advantage of his loss for words, pounced on him, taking hold of both his arms and beginning to drag him towards the makeshift height chart.

'Ow- Joey- geroff!' he yanked himself free, running back across the room and standing beside Jack.

Joey sighed. 'Oh, come on, you two,' he gritted his teeth, muttering through the gaps, 'just humour Aveline, okay?'

Jack looked from Joey to Jimmy, then took a hesitant step forward. 'All right,' he said, and Joey waved the pen dramatically, 'let's see _you_ do it, then!' He and Adrian smirked in sync.

The eldest Boswell restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Should've seen that one coming. He wouldn't let any of them think, even for a second, though, that they had humiliated him in any way.

'Okay,' he said cheerfully, placing the biro in Aveline's hand, 'knock yourself out, Princess!'

He leaned against the wall, his arms outstretched as though he were being crucified.

The smug smiles fell from Jack and Adrian's faces.

* * *

'Oi!' Grandad hollered down the street. 'I thought you said you were gonna clean them marks off me wall when you were finished! Come back 'ere! Now!'

The five siblings ignored his cries, piling through the doorway of Number Thirty as quickly as they could and arranging themselves in their usual positions around the table. It was almost twelve, and the house was quiet- either Nellie and Freddie had finally sorted things out, or they had simply run out of breath and were waiting to recharge before they revved up for round two.

'Summat smells good,' Joey lifted the lid off the pot on the stove, sticking his nose in.' Lamb scouse. Nellie must not have cheered up yet- it was a well-known fact around the Boswell table that lamb scouse was Freddie Boswell's absolute least favourite.

'Yeah, yeah,' muttered Jack. Joey looked at him in amusement.

'Oh, cheer up, mate! So our Adrian's about an inch taller than you! What does it matter?'

Jack shot him his best bulldog expression. ' 'ow'd you like it if yer younger brother was taller than you It undermines me…me feelin' of bein' older!'

Adrian, looking immensely pleased with himself, now piped up. 'Well maybe it just goes to show you that bein' sensible has its benefits. Maybe it's because I'm more mature than you are- that's why I'm taller.'

'Doesn't explain our Joey though, does it?' Jack scowled. ' 'e acts like a five-year-old most of the time and 'e still beat both of us.'

'I'm tallest!' shrieked Billy, standing up on his chair and raising his hands over his head.

He was met with laughs from all sides.

'Oh, good, you're back,' Nellie bustled into the kitchen, her annoyance at her husband still visible on her face. 'Went to Grandad's, I suppose, you always- BILLY! SIT DOWN PROPERLY AT ONCE!'

Billy sat down with a bump and a pout, and Nellie turned her attention to the stew, dishing it out viciously.

Joey shot a wicked smile at Jack- it looked as though the fight was still going on. That twenty p. was as good as his.

The family sat in near silence as Nellie continued ladling with ferocity, and then slammed the lid down on the cooking pot.

'Are you all right, Mam?' Jimmy was the first one to speak, tentatively reaching out for his mother's hand.

'Yes, yes, I'm all right.'

The children waited for the inevitable outburst that would follow.

'What are you all staring at?' Nellie asked. '_Prayers._' She folded her hands primly and everyone copied.

'We thank Thee, O God,' Mrs. Boswell announced in a resonating voice, 'for the food on the table, for the love in our hearts, and for…' her voice faltered, 'the unity of our beloved family. Amen.'

'Amen,' the family echoed.

'Ma-man,' said Billy, but his cuteness didn't earn him a laugh this time.

The siblings all sat in quiet anticipation.

And then, sure enough…

'All the people in the world I could've married, and I ended up with your father! What did I do to deserve this?' Nellie put her head in her hands, on the verge of a meltdown now. 'Thinks he can just waltz around with his 'air sticking out like it's been electrocuted, with 'is trousers held up by a curtain cord, lookin' like someone's just thrown him together from a heap of old rags, going wherever he wants without a second thought to 'is family's needs- and then if that wasn't bad enough, sneakin' off to see…_her! That TART!_'

Nellie suddenly seemed to realise her children were listening and modified her words. 'I mean, with that…awful friend of his, a bad lot, that Lilo, er…'

'What's a tart, Mammy?' Billy asked.

'Never you mind about that, son,' Nellie remarked sternly. 'Never you mind. Needless to say, a tart is someone YOUR FATHER SEEMS TO THINK-'

Joey and Adrian both reached for her hands, squeezing them in an attempt to comfort her and cut her off. Both exchanged glances, the same question on their lips, though neither dared ask it. Where was their dad right now? It didn't look like he was still in the house- there would have been a great deal more shouting and slamming doors- but where, then, had he gone? It was probably safer not to ask- an even longer, more furious rant about Lilo Lil being his destination would undoubtedly ensue, which would end with their mother realising there were children in the room and trying to act as if they didn't know what a tart was, or just what went on between their father and his Irish 'friend.' Apart from Billy who was too young to understand, however, all the little Boswells were perfectly aware that Freddie and Lilo Lil were more than friends- even Aveline. They all remembered her from when their Mam had hired her to clean the house- a great, bawling Irish woman, who, quite frankly had intimidated the lot of them, made Aveline and Jimmy cry on more than one occasion, they'd all heard about how from day one she'd set her cap for their father, how Nellie had sacked her in an attempt to save the marriage, how when Billy was born, their dad had been running barefoot through Sefton Park with her, and ever since that day, they'd been hearing more and more about the escapades of the pair.

Joey had even, on occasion, seen the two of them when he was sent out to fetch essentials from the corner shop- and had witnessed first-hand their very public displays of affection. They sent a sick feeling to his stomach. Anyone who'd seen that would be left with no doubt as to the nature of their on-off relationship. It was better not to mention this insight to his mother, though. In his fourteen years of life, Joey had learned that the best way to get ahead in the Boswell household was not to upset Mam.

Do what you like, go where you choose, see who you want, but don't let the upsetting details get to Mam, whatever you do. And besides, his father's occasional infidelity and wandering made him angry, but the one time he'd brought it up with Freddie he'd been compared to a rather horrible colour and told to mind his own business.

Joey had since learned to stay out of it, and focus his attention instead on his siblings, who desperately needed love and someone to take care of them and listen to them during their parents' fights. He'd become like a third parent in some respects, and some of this persona had started to show itself when his mother was distressed, as it did now.

'Aw, hey, Mam,' he said softly, squeezing her arm tighter, 'don't get too upset- I'm sure Dad hasn't _really_ been goin' off with her.'

Nellie smiled miserably at him. 'It's nice of you to say that, Joey. At least you kids respect me, at least you care, even if…_he_,' she said the 'he' through her teeth, 'doesn't.'

'Yeah, cheer up, Mam,' Adrian contributed. 'We do care. We always will.'

'I want a biscuit,' said Billy.

'Yeah, and it doesn't matter if he does leave you, 'cause you've got us,' Jack said stupidly. At the mention of the words 'leave you' the smile instantly vanished from Nellie's face.

Joey gave him a furious look.

'Oh, that would be just like him,' Nellie was working herself back up again, 'abandon me here with five children and go off permanently with that,' she paused to cover Billy's ears, 'trollop! Been plannin' to take off, has he?'

Joey, Jack and Jimmy looked horrified and tried frantically to rectify the situation.

'No, I just…'

'I think what Jack meant…'

'I want a biscuit!'

'Dad never said…'

'Wouldn't put it past him,' their mam went on as if she hadn't heard their protests, 'I suppose I'll have to be prepared for a day when he might up and go…'

'I _really_ don't think Dad's plannin' on goin' anywhere,' Joey insisted.

'He loves you more than that!' Adrian put in.

'He loves us _all_ more than that.'

'Even if 'e does keep sneakin' off with…' Jack began, but seething glares from Joey and Adrian stopped him mid-sentence. 'Oh, yeah, right. What I meant to say was yeah, what they said. He loves us more than that.'

_'__Anyway,' _said Joey, standing up and casting meaningful looks at his siblings, 'I think it's time we tidied up our plates and left Mam in peace, isn't it?' The substantial second half of the sentence hung in the air, not needing to be spoken aloud: _in case one of us puts our foot in it again._

* * *

They ended up ambling towards the park that afternoon, eager to be out of the house and able to enjoy the rest of the day without the weight of the adults' problems hanging over their heads (and to avoid cleaning the marks off Grandad's wall, which was officially what they were supposed to be doing.)

'Where does your brain go when you speak, Jack?' Joey snapped as they walked along, still annoyed about the lunchtime incident. His mood was added to by the fact that he was weighed down, Aveline pulling on his right side, Billy his left, both of them wanting to be carried. They were fighting as they clung to him, somehow reaching around and over Joey to aim swats at each other over who would get the honour, and the whole thing made it very difficult for him to walk. Joey didn't have the heart, however, to tell them to stop it, and so was taking his annoyance out on the elder of his siblings instead.

'I made a slip, that's all,' argued Jack. 'Anyone can do that!'

'_Honestly_, even Billy could see not to say anythin' _that_ stupid when Mam was clearly upset!'

'He only didn't say anythin' 'cause he didn't get what was goin' on! You've seen the way 'e carries on about things! He's hardly got any 'ope of growin' up with tact!'

'Tell me what 'tact' means,' Billy demanded. Jack just looked at Joey pointedly.

'No, I think that's just a phase,' Adrian, who up 'til this point had been quietly absorbed in thought, now spoke up, 'he's only tactless and demandin' 'cause of his age. Well, it's toddlers, isn't it? I think, when he's older, he'll be more like me. You know, quiet, mature, sensitive.'

'And a poof,' Jack muttered under his breath, and was caught out and kicked in the shins by Joey.

'Look, can we change the subject now?' the eldest Boswell asked, managing to free his hands from Billy and Aveline long enough to throw them up. 'There's no point arguin' about things that 'aven't happened yet- time'll tell how our Billy turns out.'

They continued in relative silence for a while.

'Joey,' said Billy, tugging in his sleeve, 'carry me.'

'No! _I_ need to be carried, Joey!' Aveline wailed. 'Look at me heels! Me feet'll drop off!'

'Well, why did you wear high heels out?' Adrian snapped. 'You must be the only eight-year-old in the country who manages to find children's six-inch designer pumps and uses them for day-to-day wear!'

And then the lot of them were squabbling away, and Joey felt a headache coming on from all the constant bickering he had to endure. First his Mam and Dad, and now his siblings, and it was only two o'clock in the afternoon.

'Cut it _out,_ you lot!'

The children fell silent, staring up at their suddenly cross and authoritative brother with a kind of fearful fascination.

Joey stared sternly at them for a few seconds longer, and then his face softened. 'Now, come on, eh- there's no reason why you can't both be carried , is there?' He smiled down at his two youngest siblings. 'Eh? I'll take you, Aveline, and Jack can carry Billy, can't you, Jack?'

'No-' began Jack, but Joey delivered a swift kick to his other shin and he immediately changed his mind. 'Er, yeah. I can. Come on, then.'

Relieved that the problem had been adequately sorted, Joey sighed, squatting down on his haunches to allow Aveline to climb on his back. With a squeal of delight, the small girl leapt on him, nearly tipping him face-first into the footpath with the impact and looping her arms round his neck so tightly Joey could almost feel the breath stop in his throat. Choking a little, he loosened his sister's grip, trying to shift her on his shoulders so the spike of her heel no longer dug into his hip.

'Okay,' he hitched her up one more time, smiling at her little giggle, 'let's go, Princess.'

'_I_ wanted to go with Joey,' Billy said sulkily from a reluctant Jack's grasp.

Joey raised his eyes skyward.

You could never win with this lot.

* * *

While the others amused themselves throwing scraps of bread to the ducks, raced each other around the pond, lay on the grass reading (Adrian) and strutted around pretending the footpath was a catwalk (Aveline), Joey stared up at the sky, wondering just exactly how his life might turn out. He lived in a sort-of limbo between childhood and adulthood, trying to be a big brother and a protector and a mentor to the others, trying to console his mother when she needed it and give guidance to his brothers and sisters when she couldn't pull herself together enough to do so. And somehow, amongst all that, she was supposed to make a life for himself as well.

It was difficult enough to keep up with his schoolwork- not that he really cared about it, but still- when three other kids were constantly asking for help with theirs. It was difficult to make time for friendships when his siblings took up so much of his day- and even more so since Billy had been born. A lot of his mates had stopped inviting him to group events, because he invariably couldn't make them. And now, when he was starting to take more notice of girls, and cultivating his friendly and charming personality to get them to take notice of _him_, life became even harder. Every time he thought he might be getting somewhere with one, whichever of his siblings was around would seem to do their best to put her off him.

And then the lot of them would make fun of him.

No, it wasn't exactly an easy life. He'd be leaving school for good in about a year and a half, and after that there was just a big blank page in front of him. True, he joked about being a mercenary, but he didn't have the first idea where he was going to get money from, how he was going to help support his family, anything. Would he be staying at home, helping with the children for the rest of his days? Much as he loved them, he hoped not.

There were two blokes a couple of forms above him- Yizzel and his mate, whose name Joey could never remember- who had it all planned out. They were leaving at the end of the year and had decided to set up some sort of mafia organisation, and occasionally told Joey they'd offer him some kind of work with them- usually after they'd bullied him into helping with one of their ridiculous schemes and he'd taken the rap in their place. He wasn't sure, however, that he was going to try and associate with them. True, they'd taught him some useful things, such as hiding evidence of his escapades and how to lie rather smoothly, not to mention the less useful things like gambling, but he didn't trust either of them. They'd betray you as quickly as look at you, not matter how much you'd done for them.

Joey glanced over at his brothers and sister, watching them for a few moments. No matter what he did, he wouldn't abandon them. He couldn't. Even just looking at Jack and Adrian arguing, Billy waving his hands at the ducks, Aveline wobbling, filled him with a painful surge of affection. They were everything to him.

He knew it sounded strange, that no other kids his age acted this way- most didn't even associate with their brothers and sisters in public- but he couldn't bring himself to care. They had a stronger bond than any other family he knew, and knowing that gave him a wonderful feeling.

'Aw, hey, look at tha'!' Jack's shout had Joey raising his head immediately in concern, and then sighing in relief as he realised the shout was of excitement, not fear.

Jack came running towards him, waving something above his head. 'Look what I've found, Joey!'

The object gleamed as he opened his outstretched hand.

It was a golden pendant, smooth and shiny and heart-shaped, the chain of which had snapped.

Joey frowned as he scrutinised it. 'Someone's dropped their necklace- so what?'

'You can make money from sellin' stuff like this! I've seen Dad do it!'

'That doesn't mean you can just pick up any old rubbish you find in the park and flog it- Dad knows what he's doin', you know!'

Jack seemed not to have heard a word he'd said. He was turning it over in his hands, inspecting it, a daft grin on his face. 'It's not got one of those hallmark things on it- not _real_ gold then…aw, it's got some girl's name engraved on it! Ah well. I 'spect some moron might still give us a quid for it.'

Joey just stared at him in disbelief. 'You're not serious, Jack? You can't _actually_ sell that…'

'Why not? Dad does it all the time!'

'You're not Dad! He's got experience!'

'And he's been teachin' me!' insisted Jack. 'I could get a quid for it, easy-peasy, unless….' He raised one eyebrow at Joey. 'You wanna bet? Fifty p. I can do it.'

'You've got yourself a deal, there, son,' Joey said, 'you've got yourself a deal. Fifty p.'

Jack scanned the park for a few moments. 'There's a girl over there,' he mused, 'bet she'd be a taker…'

Joey followed his gaze to where the girl he had mentioned was sitting on a bench, bent over her lap and reading something intently.

'Good luck then, son,' Joey said, clapping Jack on the shoulder. 'Off you go then. I'll be listenin' for the slap!'

'Oh, very funny, ha, ha,' Jack muttered, curling his fist around the necklace and starting across the grass.

Joey shook his head. The things some people would do for m- _oh._ His eyes flickered back to the girl, who, still unaware that she was about to be duped, had stood up and was gathering her belongings together. He could see her better now, and what he saw made him sit up and pay attention.

Long, milk-chocolate hair fell right down to her waist, and her high-waisted miniskirt ended not much further after that, with tight-fitting boots climbing to her thighs. A low whistle escaped Joey's lips and before he fully knew what he was doing, he'd gotten up off the ground and was trotting after Jack.

'What yer doin'?' Jack growled as his elder brother caught up to him. 'Get lost, you'll put me off!'

'Just wanna see you in action,' Joey said, not entirely truthfully. 'Gotta make sure you don't cheat and pretend she's bought it, haven't I?'

Jack still didn't seem particularly pleased about this, but he said nothing else as they walked.

Joey had to bite his lip to stop himself grinning inanely as they drew nearer to the girl. She looked even more of a stunner up close- from what he could see of her, anyway. She was a little younger than he was, he guessed, but perhaps a little older than Jack, and though her face was partially obscured by her hair as she looked over the books in her arms, what Joey could see looked pretty lovely.

Jack cleared his throat.

The girl raised her head, and Joey got a proper look at her. Her mouth was small, but she had very big, very icy blue eyes, the sort that seemed to see right through whatever mask you tried to hide yourself behind. Joey suddenly felt an urgent need to seem very impressive.

'Hello,' said the girl warily, eyeing them up and down.

'Hel-_lo_,' said Joey, perhaps missing 'impressive' by just an inch, and earning himself a disbelieving look from his brother.

'Oh, like _that_, is it,' Jack muttered under his breath, suddenly understanding, and feeling instantly repulsed. He turned to the girl. 'Good news, darlin', this could be your lucky day! I've got some amazin' jewellery on me- and I just might have something that'd suit you!'

'No, thank you,' the girl said. The boys' very presence seemed to irritate her- they had intruded on her own private daydream, and she was clearly not pleased at being disturbed by total strangers pestering her to buy their rubbish.

Joey would have felt sorry for her, but he was too busy trying to keep his eyes where they should have been.

Jack went on with his sale, trying to imitate Freddie, but coming across more as a bit of a lech rather than charming and customer-friendly. 'But look at this exquisite piece!' He produced the necklace and dangled it in front of her face. 'Haven't you always wanted to own a-'

'Eh!' the girl's eyes widened. 'That's _mine!'_

Joey stopped not-looking at her legs and started paying attention to the conversation.

'That's right,' Jack went on obliviously, 'it could be yours, and all for a low price of-'

'No, that _is_ mine,' she said crossly, putting a hand to her throat. 'It must've fallen off…back there…'

'Yeah,' said Jack. 'That's what they all say.'

'It's got my _name_ on it!' the girl insisted, one hand on her hip.

She had Jack there- there _was_ an engraving on the back- one which the girl couldn't possibly have seen given the way Jack was currently holding the pendant. He wasn't giving up that easily, though. Closing his fist around it, he moved it out of her reach, turning it over and peering at the name through his fingers.

'Oh, yeah? Prove it. What's your name, then?'

The girl sighed in frustration. 'Martina,' she said, her teeth grinding audibly, 'now _give it back!_'

Jack made a show of inspecting the engraving, and Joey leaned over his shoulder to have a look himself. Sure enough, in elongated, cursive script, the name _Martina_ was carved across the back of the necklace.

'Give it 'er,' he said quietly.

'Er…close!' Jack announced, 'but not quite- you see, that could be an 'l' there, not a 't', and we can never be too careful-'

'Oh, _Jack_, just give it 'er!' Joey repeated, louder this time, wrenching the necklace from his grasp and holding it out.

With a seething glare, Martina snatched it from him.

'Now, do you have anything else of mine that you wanna hawk on the black market, or can I get on?'

'Yeah, yeah,' Jack grumbled, his disappointment in not having a sale, his fury at having lost the bet, as well as his humiliation at having tried to sell someone their own property all evident in his face. 'But I shouldn't 'ave ter pay you the fifty p., Joey- it's not fair! I didn't know it was 'ers, and it was only me first try…'

'Oh, just forget about the fifty p.,' Joey waved his complaints away, and, from the look he was being given, Jack suspected his older brother was trying to wave_ him_ away too. He rolled his eyes and then stomped back across the grass to the rest of his siblings.

'What's Joey up to?' Adrian asked, sitting up and dusting grass off his shirt. 'Where is he?'

'He spotted a _girl_,' Jack scoffed, jerking his head in their direction. 'He's busy layin' 'is charms on thick.'

They squinted at the scene.

'What charms?' Jimmy widened his eyes, and then the two of them broke out into uncontrollable snickers. It had only been for a few months, but just recently, Joey had begun to fancy himself God's gift to the female sex- and seemingly no girl was safe. It was his age, the younger Boswells reasoned, and therefore couldn't be helped- but nonetheless they all vowed they would never be that embarrassing when _they _got older and got hormones, and they took every opportunity that came up to tease him.

On the other side of the park, it had taken Martina a few minutes to realise she was still being watched.

'Er- did you want somethin'?'

The question took Joey somewhat off-guard. 'Want something?'

'Why are you starin' at me?'

Joey couldn't quite think of a good enough excuse, so he changed the subject, resolving to polish up his quick wit and readiness for next time.

'I'm Joey,' he said, trying to sound conversational. He held his hand out to her but she didn't shake it.

'Oh, good.' Martina went back to gathering together her books.

'You know, it was, er, very clever of you to spot that our Jack had your necklace,' Joey thought up on the spot. It was one of those things you were supposed to do when talking to girls, he remembered his Dad telling him once. Compliment them. They like that.

Martina just looked at him like he'd grown an extra head, and that both of them were moronic.

'It. Was. Mine,' she said, not comprehending how this could in any way constitute cleverness when it was so painfully obvious. Joey felt his chances of appearing impressive were slipping away. He paused to gather his thoughts.

'Goodbye, then,' said Martina impatiently, giving him a little be-off-with-you-now wave.

Joey blinked, taken off guard and a little disconcerted at the fact that he was being dismissed. He struggled to keep his cool.

'Yes, I'd better be going,' he said, as if that had been his plan all along and her dismissal had had nothing to do with it, 'got lots of _responsibilities_ to take care of.'

'_Oh, good,_' Martina said again, stifling a yawn.

Joey took a step in the opposite direction and then hesitated, leaning would-be-casually against the back of the bench, one arm stretched far enough so it could almost be counted as being partially, sort-of around her shoulders. With a little stretch of the imagination.

'Listen…' he said coyly.

'-No,' said the girl at once, sensing immediately what he was planning to ask.

Joey tried not to be disheartened by the flat-out rejection. 'But I'm so charming!'

Martina made a scoffing noise and began fishing around in her bag. Alighting on a small flat object, she reached out and took hold of his hand, turning his palm upwards and placing the object in it.

Joey stared at it quizzically. He'd imagined at first she might have been giving him a phone number, an address, some way of contacting her, but the thing he'd been handed was hard and cold and heavy in his palm.

He raised one eyebrow in question.

'You obviously need this more than I do,' Martina said with a smirk.

Intrigued, and noticing a little catch, Joey undid it, flipping the object open to reveal two shiny panels of glass. It was a compact mirror.

'Oh, very hilarious,' Joey said, wondering if he was supposed to interpret this as flirting or if Martina was deliberately being nasty. A few months ago, he would have thought the latter, but his ego and hormones, which had steadily been developing over this past year, were just inflated enough for him to decide on the former.

'Shall I sell this back to you then?' Joey teased.

'Ugh.' Martina rolled her eyes, clearly not appreciating the great humour Joey believed he was conveying. He laughed at her frustrated expression.

The girl, realising that this obnoxious stranger had little intention of going away any time soon, decided to take matters into her own hands, turned on her heel and walked off in the other direction.

'Wait, wait!' Joey hastened after her, catching her by the shoulder, realising as he did so that he was rapidly losing any traces of the casually-charming image he was trying to pull off. He at once changed his tone. 'If we, er…happen to…oh, say, run into each other again- in the future, like…'

'Then something,' Martina cut in, 'has gone terribly wrong.'

Rather than admitting defeat, Joey was trying to think of some way of wiping the cruel smirk from her face, thus winning his dignity back. He opened his mouth.

And that was the precise moment Billy turned up.

* * *

Joey didn't say all that much on the walk home. Possibly this was because he was still rather mortified at the fact that his younger siblings had managed to humiliate him in front of yet _another_ girl- and when he was doing so well too! Maybe if he could just stop his little brothers and sister showing up when he was trying to appear suave- especially if he didn't always have Billy toddling up demanding to be carried at a crucial moment, then maybe…

He thought back, remembering the incident more clearly and accurately this time. If he were completely and totally honest with himself, something Joey didn't always feel like being- she hadn't been very impressed with him anyway. He turned the little compact mirror over and over in his hand, remembering her words when she'd given it to him, and what she'd most probably been implying. She hadn't asked for it back, but then again, maybe she hadn't thought of it- she'd been desperate to get away from him as soon as she possibly could. And that would certainly be the last he'd ever see of her. He hadn't been doing all that well after all.

Not that he'd let on to his siblings- as far as they had to know, he got on very well indeed with her and made yet another one swoon and sigh over his amazing charms. Aveline and Billy'd probably believe that anyway.

Joey found himself opening Martina's mirror without really comprehending why he was or even what he was doing. He gazed into the glass, examining himself as he walked, trying to picture himself through the eyes of every girl who'd rejected him recently. What was he doing wrong, exactly?

He'd have to work on his approach, that was for certain. From now on, he wanted to astound everyone, simply oozing style. He needed some sort of signature greeting, or a way of better addressing people. Saying 'hello' did seem a bit ordinary.

'Salutations,' he muttered to himself, picking out the first ostentatious word that came to mind. It sounded a bit on the pompous side. He tested the water with a few more.

'Good day…nah, it's not always day, is it? Felcitat- no, I'd sound like a git…what's a good sort of greetin'? Greetings…hmm…no. I can't just swan around sayin' _greetings_, can I? That'd be just _daft_…'

Adrian looked sideways at him. 'Did you say something, Joey?'

Joey shook his head, shifted Billy's weight on his back (the little lad seemed to have fallen asleep now, and he weighed a ton) and sneaked another look in the compact. He couldn't _see_ anything out of place. If he did say so himself, he was heading to be quite a fine-looking young man. Hmm. He might spruce himself up a little when he got hold of some money, of course. And maybe, he thought…

'Ji-Adrian? Do you reckon I should dye me 'air?'

'Dye your 'air?' Adrian asked, as though Joey had just invented the concept right there and then. 'What would you wanna do that for?'

'Oh, I don't know,' Joey shrugged, snapping the compact shut and slipping it into his pocket. 'Just toyin' with a stray thought…'

They lapsed into a ponderous silence.

'Mam'd never let you,' said Adrian after a time.

'I didn't mean _now_, just maybe when I'm older- and I wasn't necessarily sayin'- oh, never mind.'

'He's gonna change his image,' Jack chimed in. 'For when he's a mercenary.'

Adrian rolled his eyes, bur Joey jumped on the opening.

'Well, you know, mercenaries have to have a…a certain air about them, don't they?'

'When he looks like an American millionaire ponce and drives around in his Rolls-Royce or what 'ave you, maybe he'll wind down the window and toss us a penny,' said Jack.

'I wouldn't do that!' Joey cried, outraged. 'You're family! You'll be ridin' in the Porsche with me- all me henchmen.' He smiled at Aveline. 'And hench-girl.'

Jack frowned. 'Where'd this Porsche come from? It was a Rolls a second ago!'

Joey waved his hand. 'I don't wanna Rolls! That's a royalty car, that is. I want somethin' with a bit more…' he tried to make a gesture with his hand which would illustrate whatever it was he would like a bit more of, but couldn't find the word for.

They were ambling towards the centre of town now, a variety of cars all on display for the siblings to scrutinise. And scrutinise they did- all of them taking a look on Joey's behalf.

No Porsches or Rolls Royces here- just falling-apart old bombs that weren't even worth stealing for their spare parts.

'Er…Joey?' Adrian raised his head toward the sky. 'Do you think maybe it's time to stop looking at cars and head off home? It's gettin' a bit late, and by the looks of it, it's gonna rain.'

Joey nodded and craned his neck to get a look at the still-sleeping Billy he was carrying. Adrian was probably right- it was high time they returned to Kelsall Street. The fighting would be sure to have died down (and more importantly, Jack now owed Joey 20p), Grandad was sure to be dozing by now, and would have forgotten about the how his grandchildren had defaced his walls, and, perhaps, the greatest incentive of all, it was just about time for tea.

They took the quickest route through the streets, avoiding all the places that provided distractions, and being sure to steer well clear of any place that sold magazines for fear Aveline would be tempted to start looking through them and picking out which of the models she like to look like, and they'd be there all night.

'I still can't believe that necklace,' Jack was saying as they prepared to cross the road, fighting amongst themselves over who was obliged to hold whose hand. 'It's just my luck, isn't it, that it only turned out to be 'ers in the first place.'

'Oh, you're _bound_ to get better at it, son,' said Joey, putting one foot out into the road, 'you're bound to-'

'Watch it!' Jack shouted, and Joey leapt back, jostling Billy in the process, as an enormous black car barrelled past, nearly knocking him down.

He stood in the gutter, heart hammering, staring after the offending vehicle.

'Some people should not be allowed on the roads!' exclaimed Adrian from somewhere behind him. 'You really should be more careful, you know, Joey- you and Billy both could've been…'

Joey had tuned out by this stage. Irresponsible as it was, he hadn't been concentrating on his own safety, now how close he had just come to being run down. It was the vehicle itself that remained in his mind. Sleek and long and black, it was clearly the sort of car that belonged to someone who knew just what they wanted from life, and felt they didn't need to bother about road rules or anything else.

It was the sort of car you would feel empowered in.

He'd gotten a glimpse of the front, only a glimpse, but he was sure there was a leaping Jaguar on the bonnet. A little light bulb went off in Joey's brain.

'Yeh- that's it. That's the one,' he said aloud. The others stared.

'What's the wha' one?' Jack asked.

'That's the car I'm gonna 'ave.'

'Wha'- the one that nearly ran you over?'

'Well, obviously not the _same_ one,' said Joey irritably, 'but one just like it, yeah. I'm gonna look fantastic in it.'

He waited for some sort of response, some sort of affirmation.

'It'll look ridiculous parked outside our 'ouse,' said Jack.

'I don't remember what it looked like,' said Aveline.

'You'll never be able to afford it,' said Jimmy.

'Afford what?' said Billy, newly awake from his piggyback nap.

Joey sighed. They didn't get it. They just didn't get it.

* * *

It started to rain just after they got home, fortunately for them, but the increasingly stormy weather was the least of the Boswell children's problems. Both Nellie and Grandad were on the warpath- the former still in quite a bad mood about their straying father, despite having let him back in the house, the latter still raving on about the mess they'd made in his kitchen. They'd been subjected to a lengthy telling-off over dinner, and then ahd been made to go back next door and clean the marks off Grandad's wall (not an easy feet- blue biro, they soon discovered, was incredibly tricky to remove) before they could go to bed.

Joey finally turned in around half past ten, the rest of his siblings already snoring away, and collapsed into his bed. The 20p he'd won from Jack glinted faintly on his bedside table, and he allowed himself to gloat for a few moments about it before turning his attention to his impending change of image. He wasn't exactly sure how he _was_ going to procure the necessary money to become a mercenary, make sure his family never had to do without, and, of course, to buy that amazing Jaguar. Well, he supposed, by the time he finished school he'd have come up with a plan, and he could start to make his fortune, as the saying went.

Outside, thunder rumbled. There really was a storm a-brewing out there now. At least storms passed fairly quickly, Joey thought- a lot quicker than a Nellie and Freddie row when _that_ was a-brewing. He settled back against his pillow.

A great _boom_ sounded.

'Mammy!' Across the room, Billy was sitting up in his oversized bed, the blankets all drawn up to his chin.

Joey peered through the near-darkness, frowning.

'Billy?' he whispered. 'You okay?' Billy slept through everything- _everything_.

'I've 'ad a bad dream,' said Billy, and Joey sighed. That at least made more sense.

'Come 'ere, then.' He shifted across his bed, making a space for his little brother and holding the blankets open for him.

Billy leapt up and tottered over, his little feet making thump-thump noises that made Joey cringe. He'd wake the lot of them in a minute.

'C'mere,' Joey repeated softly, forcing his annoyance away. Billy was just a baby lad, after all.

He held out his arm and pulled the small boy in beside him.

'It's okay, Billy,' he whispered into the top of his brother's curls. 'I've got you. Go to sleep, sunshine.'

Billy instantly relaxed by Joey's side, and the eldest Boswell could have sworn he was already on the verge of sleep. It would never cease amaze him how toddlers could do it- just forget about things so easily. Or _Billy_ could, anyway. Maybe there was just some strange gene inside him that made him sleep extremely well.

Ah well. It was probably about time he took a leaf from his brother's book and tried to drop off too.

'Joey?'

Or perhaps not.

'Storm keepin' you awake too, Princess?' he asked as the door of the boys' room opened a crack, and Aveline pattered over to him, climbing into the bed and arranging the covers around her without asking.

'Careful, Princess,' Joey whispered. 'Don't crush our Billy.'

Aveline paused to look down at him. 'Aw,' she murmured, before clambering over both of them and setting almost on top of Joey's other side.

Another bout of thunder. Aveline's grip on her brother tightened and she let out a little cry.

'Shh, sweetheart,' Joey crooned. 'I've got you now. 'S okay.'

'Wouldn't like to be in your shoes,' came Jack's voice, and Joey rolled his eyes. Were _any_ of them asleep?

'Although storms can be a _bit_ frightening, I must admit,' piped up Adrian.

Apparently not.

Joey sighed again. 'Do you wanna come in too, Ji-Adrian?'

'I think I'm a bit too old to go running to you for protection just 'cause there's a…' another rumble from outside, 'on the other hand, maybe I _will_ just…'

The floorboards creaked as Adrian ran across to join the others, getting in at the foot of the bed.

'Yeah, go on, count me in,' said Jack, scrambling to grab his pillow and not be the only one alone on this dark and stormy night.

'Right, then,' Joey announced. 'Is everyone comfy now?' There was a murmur of assent. Everyone but him, then. Great.

'Okay, then. Goodnight.'

Sighing for a final time, Joey Boswell lay back into what little space was left for him in 'his' bed and closed his eyes.


End file.
